


Sleep

by sheafrotherdon



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-04
Updated: 2007-07-04
Packaged: 2017-10-11 22:56:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/118072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheafrotherdon/pseuds/sheafrotherdon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney wakes just a little when John slides into bed in front of him, just enough to make more room, to mumble, "John," pleased, to plaster himself against the curve of John's back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep

Rodney wakes just a little when John slides into bed in front of him, just enough to make more room, to mumble, " _John_ ," pleased, to plaster himself against the curve of John's back. He's exhausted, bone-tired, helpless beneath the crushing weight of how long it's been since he slept. It makes him truthful. "Miss'd you."

He can feel John's breath catch – a hitch beneath his palm where it's spread against John's chest, and then John's hand's shifting, coming to rest over his own, and he's stretching a little, his long, lean legs dragging against Rodney's as he gets more comfortable. _John, John, naked John_ runs the mantra in Rodney's head as he noses against the nape of John's neck, smells salt and dirt and overheated skin. John tugs at his hand, pulls his fingertips up, up, away from his heart, and Rodney would grumble save for the fact that John's kissing the heel of his thumb. Such a dumb place to kiss someone, Rodney half supposes, but he doesn't mind, not with his eyes closing again and the curve of John's ass snug against his hips. Tomorrow he'll do something about that ass, he promises, but now it's just right, intimate, a jigsaw puzzle piece of himself slotted snug into place and he presses his forehead to John's shoulder, squeezes him just a little. John rumbles happily at that, lets out a long, tired breath, goes lax in the circle of Rodney's arms as if this is the only place he can let down his guard.

"Sleep," Rodney mumbles, but the word's unnecessary, John already breathing deeply with their fingers tangled together, pulled in close against his collarbone, cradled there as if to keep them safe. "Hmmmm," Rodney whispers, and he smiles as he inches a foot between John's bony ankles, settles, drifts, surrenders all he has.


End file.
